Cops and Robbers
by The Rad Writer
Summary: In theory, you find the bad guy, you do your thing, you come out a hero and you call it a job well done. If every story had the same ending would this world be a better place or just a devolving one? We tell ourselves everything is going the way it's supposed to because the off chance that the reality is anything but is too uncomfortable to think about. Do we really know anything?


It was a midsummer day. The street buzzed in anticipation of the day's events; there had been a car chase not much earlier, a couple of lamas had escaped the zoo and it had taken eight police vehicles and live helicopter footage to subdue and take them back home. Wisps of laughter mingled with complaints of the heat, a harmonic orchestra of noises that could not enter the confines of Blossom's car. The woman in particular, clad in all black, perched silently within the air-conditioned margins of her police instated vehicle. Her eyes scoured the muted street for a quick moment before returning her attention on the large corporate building looming over the opposite side of the street toward the entrance of its underground parking lot.

She flicked her wrist and checked the time, eyes darting toward the entrance once again. A glossy red sports car was making its way out, and something in the back of her mind clicked with satisfaction.

Five o'clock on the dot.

She wrapped her slender fingers around the steering wheel, patiently pausing for a moment as the Ferrari sped onto the road, not bothering to turn on its indicator, and screeched away. Blossom signalled left and gradually turned onto the road, tailing the sports car even as it disappeared at the closest intersection. She'd been doing this for weeks. Blossom signalled left once again and glided along the curve, spotting the bright red vehicle now six cars down from her. He zipped straight as soon as the light turned green, and she waited anxiously for the car ahead of her to stagger off so she could switch lanes and zig zag between them until she was two cars down from him. Her fingers clutched at the steering wheel, the world blurring around the edges until only the grainy red vehicle could be distinguished.

Not today.

The Ferrari took a sharp turn on seventeenth street, and Blossom grit her teeth as she waited on the Toyota in front of her as it sped straight down the road. There were no cars left between them now. Blossom considered slowing down to lag behind him, but the Ferrari's speed increased even as the thought crossed her mind. She made a mental note to give them a ticket for that later. The car swerved left once again and Blossom quickly turned on the blinker, but as she rolled around the curb her eyes scoured the road to find that the bright, red sports car was nowhere in sight. Her heart sped up, fingers tightening around the wheel and nails digging into her skin. She started forward at a gradual pace, but it was evident that it'd happened again.

She'd lost him.

* * *

Telephones rang all around her as she made her way silently down the hall, eyes focused straight ahead as random blurbs of chatter escaped from the offices and cubicles stationed around her. Blossom stalked into her office, mouth set in a stern line and right side of her jaw tensed as she grit her teeth.

With her eyebrows just the slightest bit tilted into the basis of a frown, Blossom yanked at her desk chair and slumped into it and as if on cue her pocket began to vibrate, pulling the auburn-haired female out of her bitter state of contemplation.

"What is it?"

"Hi to you too sunshine," the female voice on the other end quipped, "I was just calling to ask if you were coming planning on coming home tonight so I don't set up an extra plate at the dinner table and end up staring at it all night feeling my desperate lack of a social life practically hit me in the face, again."

Blossom sighed, "you could've just texted me," she pinched the bridge of her nose, "I've told you not to call me while I'm-"

"At work, I know, and I would but you always ignore all your texts anyways now are you coming or not?"

Blossom sighed once again, "yes, yes I'm coming."

"Good," the voice replied satisfied, "I'll let you get back to your undercover cop stuff now."

Blossom rolled her eyes, letting out a little huff of air. She spoke into the receiver and hung up the phone, turning her seat partially to face her reflection in a blacked out computer screen.

Agitation slowly crept back around the edges of her mind as she recalled her mishap with the suspect earlier that morning. She stretched out another sigh and glanced at the time. She still had a couple hours before his next trip. Blossom booted up the computer and grabbed the neatly stacked papers from her table drawer. Pale pink eyes flitted over days worth of observations and notes on her current case: a possible human trafficking ring being carried out through an established business company. She slapped a particular sheet with the picture of a bright red Ferrari clipped to it onto the desk, eyebrows crinkled once again.

She'd come up with a hypothesis accusing the company CEO's involvement in the underground black market trade, and the main objective was to capture the ring leaders themselves and shut down a fraction of the trade altogether. She'd been watching him for weeks now and had gotten most of his routine memorized, what she needed was evidence to back up her accusations and answer her questions. Where did he disappear to between 5:10 and 5:30 every afternoon? Why had eight female workers been fired and consecutively filed under missing person's reports within that last three years? What kind of a douchebag still drove a Ferrari? Blossom tapped the bottom of her ballpoint pen against the smooth mahogany table top with a ponderous look to her pastel eyes.

Another set of vibrations pulled her out of her thoughts. Blossom answered the call, straightening in her seat as the voice spoke.

"Utonium I've got some intel for ya'," a male tone rang out this time.

Blossom's expression remained stern. She inwardly prompted him to continue.

"Hello?"

"I'm listening," she responded.

"You can't do that you've gotta say some-never mind. Alright," passing cars whispered in the background, "this big CEO you've got your eyes on, impressive stuff. He's in his early twenties and already runs a multi-million dollar company. The kid's worth more than my sixth ex-wife, and she had twelve yachts, twelve."

"Get to the point, Ricky."

"Alright, alright. He goes by James, first name undetermined. An inside source told me that mister big shot was seen talking to Ace-previous leader of the now disbanded Gangreen Gang charged with with multiple incarcerations for robbery, vandalism, drug cartel and prostitution rings-but not before sneaking in a quick two o'clock appointment if you know what I mean."

Blossom's eyes remained expressionless. So Ace had relocated to Megaville.

Ricky spoke into the silence, "that's all I've got for now, but I'll keep you updated if anything pops up."

Blossom nodded, "alright, thank you for your assistance," and hung up the phone.

The reflection of her face stared back through the computer screen, outlining the smooth curves of her hair pulled back in a sleek, high-ponytail. It traced the contours of her slim button nose, the soft edges of her full lips, and the intensity of her now dark eyes onto a glossy black canvas. Ace's name had faintly tugged at a chord of nostalgia, beckoning fond sentiments of her childhood.

"How do the criminal and the big shot CEO connect..." She muttered, "unless they're both involved in something shady."

This was good. If anything it helped put in perspective the illegitimacy of his intentions, although nothing could be assumed just yet. Blossom gently prompted the papers, quickly glancing over the notes recorded. She knew his routine at this point. She could corner him while undercover; pose as a stranger or even a friend. Could even sneak into his office after hours, she knew his schedule, and there was a low percent rate of being caught. She inwardly scoffed, she was superhuman after all.

A sudden knock resounded from the open doorway, "Ms. Utonium?"

Blossom turned her attention onto the young secretary standing at the entrance to her office.

"Your housekeeper told me to inform you that dinner is at seven."

Blossom glanced at the clock and remained rooted in her seat, "thank you, Susan" she replied, her attention no longer on the girl as her eyes settled on the papers once again.

"She also said to tell you that she the sushi boat was almost finished..." Blossom stacked the papers into a pile and tapped them on the desk "...and hoped you would be home..." Neatly placing them back into the drawer and locking it shut "...before all the spicy dragon rolls," Susan raised her hands in the makings of an air-quote, "mysteriously disappeared."

Blossom was already levelled with her at the door, "I'll be going home early today, Susan," she disclosed, face expressionless, and with that she sped down the hall.

* * *

 **A/N**

I do not own the cover photo, shoutout to wenzepogi123 (please inform me of the owner of Blossom's picture)

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